


the history book on the shelf (is always repeating itself)

by blondsak



Series: Irondad Bingo Fics [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Defenestrating Canon with No Small Amount of Maniacal Glee, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker is a Good Dad, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, even if he doesn't always think so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24943132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak
Summary: It hadn’t been the first time Tony had woken up to a frantic call from a parent tending to a busted-up teenager bleeding all over their apartment. But that had been May, and also decades ago.Somehow, tonight is even worse than that.Because tonight, it had been Peter doing the calling.Tonight it had been Peter, begging for help for his thirteen year-old son.(Written for Irondad Bingo: Peter Calling Tony “Dad”)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad Bingo Fics [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1458253
Comments: 140
Kudos: 374
Collections: Peter Parker is a Good Dad, Peter Parker's Tales





	the history book on the shelf (is always repeating itself)

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE THANK YOU to forensicleaf for the beta. You are an editing rockstar and just an awesome human and I adore you!
> 
> Also, thank you to coconutknightshade and whumphoarder for the idea behind my endnote :)

It’s nearly four in the morning when Tony bursts through the compound medbay doors. He’s not the spring chicken he used to be, but that doesn’t stop him from racing through the hallways, heading in the direction of Peter’s usual room.

Except that tonight, he’s not here for Peter. Tonight, it's somehow worse.

It hadn’t been the first time Tony had woken up to a frantic call from a parent tending to a busted-up teenager bleeding all over their apartment. But that had been May, and also decades ago. 

Tonight, it had been Peter, calling for help for his thirteen year-old son.

Tony hadn’t had the chance to get any details-- Peter’s panicked voice going on about Tony needing to send two suits to the Parker-Jones abode over in Forest Hills. Normally Peter could just get EDITH to send them, but one of the suits needed was the MedMark prototype, from Tony’s currently-in-development line of medical suits. It still hadn’t been fully tested and as such wasn’t authorized for field use yet, but Tony knew - as Peter did - that it was perfectly functional. 

He’d immediately granted full permissions to EDITH, the regular suit deploying from the compound while the MedMark suit headed out from Tony’s lab at the cabin. After that Tony had stayed on the phone with Peter just long enough to get only one question answered. Peter sounded terrified but not hurt, which had Tony asking if Michelle - pregnant with their second child after years of trying again - was alright.

_“It’s Ben, Tony-- it’s, god, it’s Ben. I gotta go, I--I gotta help MJ with him.”_

The last thing Tony had made out right before Peter hung up was the background sounds of Michelle comforting Ben, who was moaning weakly in pain.

The memories of all the times he’d found a teenage Peter laying prone in an alley or on a roof, biting back screams as he tried to breathe through the pain of yet another horrific injury had Tony racing out of bed-- unsure if it was better or worse that Pepper was in San Francisco visiting Morgan. He had barely stopped to put on jeans and a sweater before booking it to his car, telling FRIDAY to take control-- not trusting his shaking hands and panicking mind to stay steady enough for driving.

He’d only managed to somewhat calm down when two and a half hours into the drive he’d gotten a text message from Michelle, letting him know that Ben was out of surgery and - barring any infections - had a good prognosis for recovery. He’d desperately wanted to call her or Peter for more details, but also didn’t want to bother them while they were almost certainly at Ben’s bedside. So instead, Tony had forced himself to be patient, knowing he’d get his answers soon enough.

Now here he is, having raced across hundreds of miles only to halt at the door-- nervous of what he’s about to walk into. 

After all, Ben was his grandson in every way but blood, and the idea of seeing him seriously hurt - and especially when he didn’t have his father’s healing ability - is something Tony simply never let himself consider. Even years of seeing Peter laid up following dozens, hell, _hundreds_ of major injuries hadn’t made it any easier, and Peter was long since past his own childhood.

But his feelings aren’t what matter here, Tony reminds himself. What matters is putting on a brave face for Ben and being a supportive presence to his parents. And of course, eventually getting the full story of exactly how he’d gotten hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Tony knocks gently twice, before slowly opening the door-- seeing Michelle sitting with Ben, Peter curiously absent. The only light besides the various machine monitors comes from a small lamp in the corner, the soft glow creating a feeling of warmth in the otherwise sterile environment.

“Tony,” Michelle greets quietly, giving him a small, exhausted smile.

“Michelle,” he softly replies, gently closing the door and going to stand at the end of Ben’s bed, putting a hand on one of the kid’s covered ankles. 

The boy is asleep or perhaps still unconscious, an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth and a bulge of bandages taped to his bare chest, other wires and IVs connected to him at various points. Tony feels his own chest tighten a bit at how pale the kid looks, choosing to focus on his deep, steady breaths instead.

Ben’s badly hurt, but he’s alive. As long as that remains true, Tony can handle seeing him in any state.

“How’s Ben? What happened?”

Michelle turns back to look at her son as Tony makes his way over to the vacant chair next to her, and - instinctively looking around again for Peter despite knowing he’s not in the room - sits down.

“It was really close, but he’s going to be okay,” Michelle says after a few moments, reaching out to tuck one of the kid’s wily curls back before caressing his cheek. “He was stabbed just an inch or so below his heart. By the time he made it home, his left lung had already collapsed. He was having trouble breathing, and then all the blood… If it hadn’t been for the MedMark suit keeping him alive, I don’t know if…”

She trails off, Tony feeling his own breath stutter as he tries to process her words, sputtering as he says, “Hold up. Ben was-- was stabbed?”

Michelle nods tightly. “A mugger. The guy was apparently threatening a young woman near ninth and 35th. We haven’t had a chance to get the full story from him yet.”

Tony doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. He had honestly assumed that Ben had somehow been injured in an accident at home. Why else would a normal, healthy thirteen year-old kid suddenly be bleeding out at midnight on a Wednesday?

“I don’t get how-- what was he doing out that late? And what made him think to intervene in a damn mugging instead of calling, I don’t know, his _superhero_ dad? Or the police?”

Michelle twists her head to look at him and although her eyes are wet, her gaze is sharp as she says in a neutral tone, “So you really didn’t know.”

Before Tony can respond she puts a hand up, adding, “Not that we thought you’d condone him going out behind our backs-- Peter was absolutely certain you wouldn’t ever do that again, not to us, not now. But we thought… maybe… Ben would have told you what was going on, considering how close you two are.”

Tony blinks. “Honest to god, Michelle, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about his powers.”

“His _what?”_ Tony exclaims, then shaking his head, adds firmly, “No, that--that doesn’t make sense. Ben doesn’t have any powers. I mean, yes, we know he carries it in his DNA, but he’s never shown any signs of super strength, never healed quickly, never been able to crawl up walls. He’s just a normal kid.”

_“Was_ just a normal kid,” Michelle replies wearily. “But that was before puberty started. The more I think about it, the more it adds up. His powers must have just been latent.”

Tony shakes his head again. “No, that can’t-- surely there’s…”

He trails off as a memory surges forward from not even two months ago, when the Parker family had come for a weekend at the cabin-- only days before Peter had tangled with Fisk, Prowler and the Goblin and nearly lost. Tony remembers giving Ben a hug only to remark at how fiercely the kid had returned it, grabbing the teen’s bicep and teasingly asking him to flex-- Ben quickly pulling away with a blush.

The kid had gone on to wear baggy hoodies during the entire visit, even when it was nearly eighty degrees out. Tony wonders now if it was because he was feeling cold due to a loss of thermoregulation, or if he was just trying to hide his new muscle definition. Maybe it had been both.

_Shit._ It’s true, Tony thinks as it really hits him, heart dropping into his stomach. Ben had inherited his father’s powers.

And since then the kid had been, what— going out and fighting crime? Tony doesn’t want to believe it, but the evidence - in the form of his unconscious grandson on the bed in front of him - is undeniable.

Tony takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he swipes a hand over his eyes. God, how could he have missed it? And if he already feels this guilty, then he couldn’t imagine how Michelle must feel, or Peter-- 

Fuck. _Peter._

If he wasn’t here, then he was almost definitely off somewhere finding a way to spin this so all the blame rested squarely on his shoulders.

“Where’d he go?” Tony asks, getting to his feet-- knowing Michelle would know exactly who he meant.

She shakes her head, turning back to Ben and caressing his temple. “As soon as we heard he would be alright, Pete disappeared-- said he was going to call May and Happy with an update and find out how soon they’d be here. That was” - she glances at the clock - “thirty-seven minutes ago.”

Oh yeah, Tony thinks. The kid was definitely brooding.

Tony glances at the door, then back at Michelle. “I can stay with Ben if you want to—“

“I’m not going anywhere,” Michelle says quietly but firmly. Her expression is determined as she looks up at him. “Go talk some sense into him for me. And once you do, tell him to get his ass back in here. His son needs him, no matter what nonsense is going through his mind right now.”

Tony gives her a nod, Michelle returning it before focusing back on Ben. With one last gentle squeeze of the teen’s foot, Tony heads out into the hallway. “Where is he, FRI?”

“On the roof, boss.”

“Going to make me use the stairs then, huh kid?” he mutters to himself. “The things I do for you…”

With a sigh, he heads for the stairwell.

After a slow ascent, especially the last two stories - Pepper’s right, he really should start considering that knee replacement - Tony makes it to the roof of the compound. 

“Peter?” he calls out-- eyes not yet adjusted to the dark blues and purples of the early morning.

A figure not thirty feet away and near the roof edge suddenly jumps up. “Is something wrong? FRIDAY said she’d tell me if anything--”

“Whoa, relax. Ben’s fine. I mean-- he’s still out, but he’s stable,” Tony answers honestly, Peter calming at his words and resuming his previous sitting position, legs hanging over the side of the building. Tony’s still huffing a bit as he makes his way over, asking, “Did you call May?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, looking away from Tony and out to the forest where the birds have already begun their earliest morning songs, a light blue tinge just starting to color the horizon. “Her and Happy are close. Should be here by sunrise.”

Carefully Tony lowers himself down next to his kid, throwing his feet out underneath the lowest rung of the metal guardrail and hanging his arms over the one atop that.

“Well, this has been quite the clusterfuck of a night, eh?” he says, tone purposely light. “Not how I wanted to start my Wednesday, but then I guess I’ve had to learn to go with the chaotic flow, what with having you around all these years.”

Peter doesn’t reply. In the low light, Tony can just barely make out his features.

He sighs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Pete, but if you’ve already talked to May— what are you doing up here instead of down in the medbay with Ben and Michelle?”

“I can’t go back in there yet,” Peter replies quietly after a few moments.

“Why not?” Tony asks— knowing the likely answer but needing to push Peter to talk all the same, adding, “Give me one good reason you can’t go sit with your injured son and your wife, who - not that you should need reminding - is seven months pregnant and probably exhausted as hell after the scare you two just had.”

That finally breaks through some invisible wall, Peter twisting to look at him. Tony doesn’t need full dawn to see the fury etched in his features.

“I can’t go in there because--because this is my fault, okay? I fucked up - I’ve _been_ fucking up - and now Ben, MJ, hell, the baby— they’re all suffering for my mistakes. Is that good enough for you?”

Tony lets the anger bounce off him, knowing it’s just a mask to hide the barely-contained fear. His voice is firm as he replies, “We both know that’s a bunch of bullshit, but for the sake of argument I’ll humor you. How the hell is this your fault? Because from where I’m sitting I gotta say, I don’t have one damn clue, kid.”

“You weren’t there,” Peter says, wiping a hand over his face, sounding haunted as he continues, “You didn’t see it. Ben, he-- he came in through our bedroom window. I’d just gotten back from patrol not even an hour earlier, and I’d checked on him, Tony. I’d _checked_ and he was sleeping, he was fine, so then I’d gone to bed and passed out myself only to-- to wake up to him bleeding all over that shitty 80s carpet our landlord won’t replace and wheezing like he was sucking air through a straw and-- _fuck.”_

Peter takes a sharp breath, turning away for a moment before looking back at Tony-- the light from the rising sun now just barely enough for Tony to catch every detail of his face, the guilt buried deep within his eyes. 

“He-- he was dressed in some of my old black sweats, had these ridiculous goggles on that made him look like the damn Night Monkey. But the worst part is-- that’s not even what tipped me off. No, as soon as he landed on the floor, before Em even managed to get the lamp on, it was like I suddenly just knew. My spidey sense went nuts and I _knew_ that he was-- he was just like me.

“And in that same split second I realized,” Peter takes a deep breath, Tony not missing the slight sob, “I realized I’d known for months, I just-- I didn’t _want_ to know so I didn’t listen to it. I didn’t want to believe it was true so I just ignored all the times I felt a buzz in the back of my mind, like when he’d get home late from school and give some ridiculous excuse, or when he’d come out for breakfast in the mornings seeming extra tired. Michelle’s been pushing me for _weeks_ to sit down with him and get him to open up to me and I just kept putting it off, telling myself that he was being a teenager, that this was just a phase, that we didn’t need to make a big deal out of it yet. I could tell he was lying but-- I didn’t press because I didn’t want to admit what was right in front of me.”

Peter pauses, staring for a long minute back out at the trees before turning determinedly to Tony. His voice is resigned when he says, “So that’s why this is my fault. I failed my son, and because I failed him he nearly died tonight. If I had just stopped him earlier, then--”

“Then he would have found a way to do it anyway,” Tony interjects, putting a hand up when Peter opens his mouth to argue. “Nah, Pete-- you got your time, it’s my turn now.”

When Peter stays quiet, Tony continues, “Listen, I know as a parent that it’s really easy to say things like ‘I should have known’ or ‘why didn’t I do something earlier’ whenever your kid gets hurt somehow, alright? But let’s look at the bigger picture here. Even without Ben developing powers-- you’ve been burning the candle at both ends, kid. Between Michelle being pregnant, working your damn ass off to help your boss Connors get that grant, not to mention that whole fiasco with Kingpin and his damn super-collider last month…”

Tony shudders, trying to will away the memory of Peter in a coma, his whole left side wrapped in burn dressings and a tube down his throat as he adds, “That’s the closest I’ve ever seen you to dead besides Titan, Pete-- and that’s saying something considering all your close calls over the years.”

“You know, it was only after I got home from that week and a half here that I felt a real change with Ben,” Peter admits ruefully. “I think that must have been when he started sneaking out. Probably realized it was his best chance at figuring out a routine without anyone being any the wiser, what with MJ at the compound with me, and May and Happy staying at the apartment with him.”

“Or maybe,” Tony says, remembering how distant and anguished Ben had been those first few days before his father woke up, “he hated seeing you get hurt so badly and decided that just like his dad, if he had these powers then he had a responsibility to use them to help people.”

Peter’s face twists at Tony’s words, chewing on his lip before he whispers, “How didn’t I see it? It was right in front of me and I just-- I couldn’t see it.”

“Well,” Tony replies, “for one thing, I’m going to guess that his powers came on slowly, if they’re tied to puberty. Hell, there’s probably still a few he has yet to even begin to develop.”

“Oh god,” Peter exclaims, burying his face in his hands. His words are muffled as he adds, “Please don’t say that. Don’t even think that. Damnit, you’ve jinxed it now.”

“If they did come on slowly, it probably made them easier to hide,” Tony continues as if Peter hadn’t spoken, “and it could also be why if your spidey sense did in fact recognize a change with Ben, it wasn’t going all out to make sure you got the hint.”

“What am I gonna do, Tony?” Peter asks as his arms drop back down, shaking his head. “I can’t let him keep doing this.”

Tony sighs, putting an arm around Peter. “With all due respect, kid-- do you really think you can stop him? Because I’ll be honest, that tactic didn’t work out so well for me. Kinda blew up in my face along with my plane, actually.”

Peter snorts humorlessly, Tony feeling his shoulders shake a little before the kid says, “Point taken, but the question still stands-- what the hell do I do? Because you’re right, I can’t stop him. But I also can’t let what happened tonight happen again, either.”

“Well, first, you look after your son until he’s on the mend,” Tony says lightly. “Then, you have a long talk with Michelle about everything, because she’s just as big a part of this as you. As for long term, well-- you already know what to do. You watch out for him, train him, mentor him, love him. You do everything in your power to make sure he makes it through the awkward stages until he’s experienced enough to handle things on his own.”

“He’s my son. I’ll never think he’s experienced enough.”

“And there’s the rub,” Tony says with a knowing smile. “The hardest part of being a parent is knowing how to let your kids go and make their own choices, even when all you want is to encase them in bubble wrap and never let them leave your sight.”

A corner of Peter’s lip turns up at that. “I mean, I was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to move our family into the Hulk container until Ben’s old enough to drink, maybe even rent a car.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Natasha. She runs the compound these days, not me.”

“You and I both know Nat will take Ben’s side. At least _pretend_ to have my back.”

“There’s some things I won’t do for even you, Pete, and that includes taking on Romanoff in her own domain.”

They both laugh, only to go quiet for a few minutes-- Tony seizing the chance to take in the beautiful pinks and oranges now strewn across the clouds. The sun will be up in just minutes, if that.

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

He twists his head to look back at Peter, who is also facing east, expression mournful yet somehow imbued with a warm glow courtesy of the reflective hues of the sky.

Before Tony can ask why, Peter goes on. “I thought I finally understood what it was like for you and May, when Ben was born. But it wasn’t until I held him in my arms tonight, knowing beyond a doubt that if he died that part of me would die right there with him-- that ultimately I had no control over anything, no matter how badly I want to… that’s when I think I really got it. And I’m-- I’m just so damn sorry.”

Tony shakes his head. “Sorry for what, kid? That you’re incredibly selfless and brave? That you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and were even when you were just a scrawny teen?”

“Hey now, I wasn’t _that_ scrawny when you met me,” Peter argues, only for his voice to go soft as he says, “I just feel like if I hadn’t taken this path, if I hadn’t given Ben this example or--or made him feel like he had to follow in my footsteps… that our family wouldn’t be here now, facing down this future.”

“Ben did this because he has just as good of a heart as his father. Nothing more or less,” Tony says simply, tightening his hold around the kid’s shoulders. “You can’t let yourself get bogged down in the what-ifs. You can only look forward. That’s part of your job as his father.”

Peter looks over at him, and Tony is glad to see he’s smiling, even if it’s still tinged with a touch of melancholy that he knows won’t leave the kid, at least not anytime soon. “Thanks, Tony. You’re a good dad.”

Tony gives him a fond look, trying not to let the implications of that statement run off with his emotions-- a traitorous sniff escaping all the same. “So are you, Pete. The very best, in fact. Don’t ever forget it.”

He pats Peter’s back twice before letting his arm drop. “Now get back in there and hold your son’s hand. He needs you more than you need to wallow-- another hard but necessary lesson of raising a spider-kid. One you’ll probably learn twice over, now I think about it.”

Peter groans even as he stands up. “Don’t remind me.”

He offers Tony a hand, one he takes gratefully as he gingerly gets to his feet-- feeling his bones creak. 

As they make their way back to the roof door, Tony feels the sun’s warm rays hit his back.

A new day is beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing gremlin is very tiny and very hungry. Please consider feeding them with kudos and comments? Or, if you don’t feel up to a full comment, feel free to copy-paste or just relay the number(s) from this handy-dandy list of options! 
> 
> 1\. This is MY EXACT SHIT and I love it  
> 2\. Pretty good! Could have used more angst tho  
> 3\. But… Peter didn’t actually call Tony “Dad”?? Why you gotta play with my emotions like that blondsak  
> 4\. GRANDPA TONY!!!!  
> 5\. This was alright, not one of my favs but enjoyable!  
> 6\. This made me cry?! SO ANGSTY  
> 7\. Peter Parker is a GOOD DAD send tweet  
> 8\. Nah, this ain’t it for me but thanks for sharing!  
> 9\. Poor Peter! Why didn't Tony give him a hug? I DEMAND MORE IRONDAD HUGS  
> 10\. Sure, Peter Parker is a Good Dad but MJ is an AWESOME MOM send tweet
> 
> Alternatively, feel free to [message me on tumblr](https://blondsak.tumblr.com) <3


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